


I’ll meet you in between and let you go

by HoneyBeeBritt



Series: See The Stars With You [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background James T. Kirk/Christopher Pike, Discussions in the inbetween, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, George Kirk is a proud father, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Relationship Discussions, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyBeeBritt/pseuds/HoneyBeeBritt
Summary: Jim Kirk died in that warp chamber.One of the only comforts he had was the fact that he would meet his love once more, after he died in his arms.But things never go according to plan, and he gets to meet his father instead.—Jim gets to meet and speak with his father, who has nothing but love and affection and sheer pride for his son, set in a universe where things went a little differently, where Jim and Christopher Pike fell in love before the Daystrom.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Christopher Pike
Series: See The Stars With You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998892
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	I’ll meet you in between and let you go

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: in this house our father and sons are able to freely discuss their emotions and connections  
> Another alternate title: Bee goes for her italics record
> 
> Hello there! This is something very different to what I usually write but I’m so proud of it all the same. I am very much in the mindset that George is absolutely bursting with heavenly pride for everything Jim has done and survived and worked through all these years, even the moments that he should have never have gone through. 
> 
> I had this idea absolutely stuck in my head for so long, and it was meant to be more of a big reveal of some plot points but I didn’t think George was /God/ or anything like that, not all knowing.
> 
> Very temporary death for Jim. I hope I can post the next part up soon! I need my sweet boys reunited!
> 
> Love to you all!

  
It was almost effortless to walk through the long grass that surrounded the property. He left the bike behind, a speeder that he recognized as the very same his father used to terrorize his mother with, back when they were in love, and happy, and not broken by the events of his birth. It had brought him here, he hadn’t needed to even know the way, and even though he was grateful for the fact that he had left the searing pain and fear behind, he had to admit that this place wasn’t exactly where he had expected to end up. 

He didn’t recognize the house that sat in the middle of the green grass and corn fields, as far and wide as the sea. He didn’t recognize the stars that lit up the sky above, but the moment that he glanced around and up, he couldn’t help but take in their beauty. There weren’t just stars in the sky, there were whole _galaxies_ , and they were so much closer than they would have ever been on earth. Closer than ever seeing them through a view screen, he felt as if he was to reach up to the heavens he would be able to dip his hand into them, like the huge bags of dried beans and rice he remembered from the farmers market. He was so little back then, and those sacks were always so large, that he daydreamed what it would feel like to just slip in head first and let the contents swallow him up.

He wondered if he allowed it, if the stars would take him instead, and he would spend an eternity sleeping among them.

If he would find Chris’ soul somewhere there too.

Maybe Chris told him about this house? One night? When he fell asleep in his arms, listening to the low hum of his voice that filled his ears and calmed his nightmares? He knew someone was there as he approached the front gate, the whole of his spirit leading him on, but he knew it wasn’t Chris, it wasn’t him.

He wasn’t there.

He should be.

Something was pulling him towards the house, like he knew he was expected, but he didn’t know who he was expected by. He had never seen this house before, but the feel of it was somehow imprinted in his memory. His fingers knew the trick of the front gate, the gravel under his feet felt so familiar, and he recognized the sound of the front door scraping against the floor, where it needed lifting an inch or two.

A younger man stepped from inside, barely scraping by thirty, with a handsome face and honey blonde hair that was combed back and off of his forehead, shorter at the sides. He had a strong jaw, barely there stubble, and blue blue eyes that were just so _familiar_.

And a smile that Jim recognized from the holo’s of his parents wedding day.

“... Dad?”

* * *

Have you ever missed a person you have never even met? Felt the ache for them in your very bones? Felt so close to a person that you couldn’t see, and that only ghosts of you have known?

Jim knew his voice the moment he spoke, knew the sound of his name from his lips even though it had only ever been uttered once. His voice was from a lifetime of dreams, only heard like it was traveling through water, and his heart clenched in his chest the moment he heard it clear.

He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t stop his feet from moving, from running up the front steps and into the arms of his father, and George held him tighter than he had ever been held, to try and make up for a lifetime of absence that wasn’t his _fault_ but he still needed to try and repair. Jim’s eyes were clouded with tears, his fingers clenching in the plaid of his father’s shirt, pressed up onto the balls of his feet, his chin resting on his fathers shoulder, and George rocked him in place, his own hands fisted in the leather of Jim’s jacket.

“God, _Jim_ , look at you. Oh my god. I’m so- I’m so sorry you’re here.”

He pulled back, hands cupping his face, studying his son so closely, before roughing it through the back of his hair, watching the smile light up Jim’s face as he instinctively tried to flatten it back down. 

“Hi Dad.”

“Jim, I didn’t think- I didn’t think you’d be here so soon. What were you thinking?!” His hands fell to his shoulders, clasping him firm, feeling the warmth of his spirit beneath his hands.

“Same thing as you, I think. Had to save my crew, had to save the people I loved.” Jim’s smile was sad, and all of George’s anger fizzled out in an instant, he knew that feeling so well, it was still as clear as day in the beyond as it was on the day he died. That he saved his wife and his unborn son in those moments, and the lives of all those he had come to love and admire and care for.

“... We’re real Kirk’s, aren’t we.” George sighed, and Jim matched his expression perfectly.

“Did I do it though? Did I save them?” Jim’s voice was a rushed breath, like he was afraid to even ask the question, like everything he had just sacrificed had been in vain. His eyes were so wide and blue, filled with uncertainty, that George was taken back for a moment, deep into the dreams he had built for himself in this place, where he was beside his wife’s side during her labor, where he got to hold his son for the very first time, and gaze at him so very tiny in his arms and vow to always protect him.

“You did, Jim, you _did_ , you saved everyone. _Everyone_.” And George watched the tears well and roll down Jim’s cheeks as he closed his eyes, “I’m so proud of you.” Utter relief spread over his face, a breath of a laugh and a smile more like a grin and George couldn’t help but tug him into a bear hug once more, putting every ounce of his feelings into the embrace. “I’m proud of you- not just for that- _**no**_ , I just _**am**_ , my son, I’m so _damn proud_ , for _all of it_.” 

Jim clung to his father so _tightly_ , it was as if he was afraid George would simply fade from beneath his hands. Jim’s chest ached, the words, the _pride_ in his voice that he desperately wished for all of his life, he simply didn’t know what to do with it all. He felt as if his cracked and flawed heart was breaking, and the pieces of it sharp and jagged in his chest were knitting themselves back together. 

All those words from people over the years, commenting on the _greatness_ of the Kirk name, of how a boy like him would never have the capability to live up to it all, would never make his father proud. He held such anger over the years; how dare they presume to know what he never got the chance to hear, how dare they presume to know him when Jim had never met him either.

_‘How dare they know my father better than me, I should have had that.’_

But there was some sense of overwhelming _finality_ of those words, that just made him laugh with the sobs that shook his body. He knew, _he knew now_.

“Hey, Jim, share a beer with your old man?”

George felt Jim smile more than he saw it.

* * *

“So, is this it? The afterlife? Not very, uh, stereotypical.” The beers were ice cold, barely a hint of sweat on the glass in Jim’s hand, and he took a tentative sip and realized it was actually cider instead. Much preferred over beer, sweet and crisp and refreshing on his tongue and it made him smile into the mouth of the bottle, this was heaven for sure.

“Not the afterlife exactly, more... in between.” George took a swig of his beer, held by the bottle neck between his fingers, and Jim was sure that the liquid inside the bottle was some sort of blue, “This is the house that your Mother and I bought, it was going to be your family home, it was going to be ours once you were born and we moved dirt side for a while. I didn’t want to move on, I wanted to stay here, to meet your Mother when she crossed over, see her again, I miss her, I wanted this to be the first thing she saw.” He leant forward, elbows on his knees, bottle hanging between his fingers as he gazed out into the gentle stillness of the night. They sat on the steps to the porch, the air was cool enough to be comfortable, but warm enough for the cicadas to sing in the distance, “I wanted to greet you too, if there wasn’t someone who would fight me for the privilege.”

“I guess... I guess he already had plans, probably was happy to see his parents, his friends, people he actually missed...” Jim’s shoulders slumped a little, and he let himself lay back onto the sun warmed wood, his heart aching in his chest, if that was even possible in this place. The ghost of his heart, perhaps, the remnants of the heat of the light of their past love.

“Don’t worry, time works differently here, he’ll be along soon. I mean, you did pick a wonderful man with a **little bit** of a head start.” George nudged his leg with an elbow, and laughed a little, putting his bottle down with a clink of glass on wood.

“... Oh my _god_ , you’re making _morbid puns_ , you **are** my father. I can’t believe- ugh!” Jim sat up just for the sheer pleasure of shoving his father into the handrail as he laughed, before settling down in a little bit of a huff, “So how do you get from there to here? I mean, if he actually wanted to come and meet me? Can I make a phone call? You have a fancy version of a comm here?”

“Jim, buddy, there ain’t exactly a way to get in touch with people there, your Chris ain’t anywhere **we** can ever reach him. It’s a waiting game.” George spoke so matter of fact that it rattled Jim a little, and he shuffled himself to properly focus on his fathers face.

“Are you telling me Christopher Pike went to some version of _hell_? While I’m sitting right here? Are you kidding me?!” 

George mirrored him, shuffling himself on the step to turn to Jim, his face a mixture of sadness and regret, a touch of pity, “Jim. You don’t deserve hell, you’re not a bad person, you never were.”

“ _And Chris was?!_ ” Jim‘s arm flared out in frustration, and he knocked over his drink but he didn’t care, didn’t care enough about it to realize that the glass didn’t break, and the drink didn’t spill from the bottle even though it rolled around on the wood of the deck.

“Jim, he’s not here, he’s not dead, he’s still alive.” George said this with an exasperated smile and a breath of a laugh, but his face fell at the way Jim’s face simply _transformed_ from anger to utter despair, “You... you didn’t know.”

“He-he _died_ , Dad, right in front of me. He was shot because I called for him and he turned his head and he was hit and it was my fault-“ 

“You were in the middle of a firefight, you saw someone you loved and called his name, the _enemy_ shot him, there is no way this was your fault.”

“Why… Why did no one tell me? Where is he? Why didn’t he try and contact me? Is he just-“

“I can’t tell you that, I’m so sorry Son, I can’t see everything, just you, and your Mother, I can only tell you he’s not dead. He’s not _here_ , or _there_ , and if he was, there is no way he wouldn’t be here to meet you.”

Jim didn’t know what was happening, he couldn’t think through the sheer fear and desperation that had overcome his mind. Chris wasn’t _here_ , he had spoken at his _funeral_ , and he wasn’t _here_ , he just wanted to break out of this place and find him. Why couldn’t he feel anyone else? Like his father did? Was it something he had to learn? Would he have to go years without knowing what happened to him? Or what would happen to Bones? Or Spock? Or Uhura? All the people he loved-?

It started with his hands, and the way they trembled, the sheer _heat_ inside of him, it felt like he was burning from the inside. His head just swam, and he _hurt_ , his whole body felt like fire, and he whined and gasped in unbearable pain, deep inside his chest before he fell into George’s arms. His fingers clawed at his forearms to steady himself as his father helped hold him up. 

Then he was suddenly cold. So so _cold_ , his breath came out in short sharp pants, and he and George watched as his breath billowed in clouds in front of him like he alone had been plunged into the very dead of winter. It was if he had crawled out of that jettisoned pod on Delta Vega, but with nothing protecting him from the elements except the thin leather of his jacket, and the torn denim of his jeans. His toes felt numb in his boots and his feet scrambled along the floor to struggle closer to the only reason here he felt safe.

“W-what’s **w-wrong** with me?”

George’s face transformed from shocked and terrified, to entirely focused in a single moment, and in the very back of his mind he realized that his father was no longer of this world, well, the world that Jim considered his own, could see things that Jim could not yet comprehend. “It’s your friend, it’s Leonard… They’ve… they’ve put you into stasis, they’ve found a way to bring you back.” George couldn't help it, his face simply broke out into a smile of sheer relief and gratitude, that his son wouldn’t be joining him when he was so young. He soothed his palm against Jim’s hair as he shivered and shook under his hands, and spoke with a voice that told him there simply wasn’t any time left, “ _Listen to me_ , Jim. You are loved. So so loved. Both here and there. Chris is alive, he’ll come back to you, he loves you with everything he is, I’m your father, I can see it.” 

It wasn’t a slow process, and Jim could barely see the frost that blossomed over his skin, but he _felt_ it. Spreading over his bare skin from multiple patches on his body; his legs, his chest, his neck, his spine. It bloomed like dye dripped into water, another, and another, and another until he felt the chill reach his face.

George wasn’t sure if Jim was shaking his head, or just trembling with the cold, but his fingers went from his forearms to clenching in the plaid of his shirt and he just seemed to sob with the effort of it all, “I-I don’t want to leave- I can’t do this alone- _don’t leave me again-_ “

“You’re not alone, Jim, I promise you, I’m with you. I’m with you in everything you do, and I’m proud, so so proud of you, my son. My beautiful son. _Trust me, trust your friends_ , let people help, you’re never alone, I promise. They love you. **_I love you_**.” Jim felt George’s hand at the back of his head, felt the vibration of his words more than heard them as he pressed their foreheads together, but they rang in his mind all the same. 

And Jim forced his eyes open, as the frost grew over his vision, and he saw his father smile one last time before-

Before-

It was quiet.

He _inhaled_.

Warm air into his lungs.

To chase away the deep seated chill.

But it wasn’t there.

And he _exhaled_.


End file.
